Sophie looked at me, then at the red door of her building. “Yes.”

A tight silence. “Sophie, after everything—”

“After everything,” Sophie interrupted, “I had surgery and needed help. Ethan helped.”

“Help is easy when someone wants forgiveness,” Lena said.

I expected Sophie to defend me. Instead she said, “Maybe.”

That maybe followed us upstairs. Back inside, pale from the walk and the call, Sophie sat at the kitchen table.